100 Themes Raijinshuu
by Blind Solitude
Summary: 100 (give or take) drabbles focused on the Raijinshuu. Timeline will vary. Because when a team is around for a long as they had been, the stories really start to build up.
1. Blood

**Well; time to brush up on my writing again. And what better way than with my favorite trio of freaks, the Raijinshuu! Anyway, I'm aiming to get out (roughly) 100 chapters, ranging from comedy to tragedy; to everything in between (though I probably won't do romance much). Also, because this will range over a long time frame, I'll try to slowly fill in their pasts as I like to see them ^_^ Anyway, any sort of comment/critique is greatly welcome.  
**

**I. Blood  
**

They were very familiar with blood. Even before they met and became the Raijinshuu; there was always blood.

For Freed, it was just another thing to be accepted. After all, a prestigious family needed to stay on top, so by all means - an eye for an eye. Of course, he was involved with little physical blood. Why would the rich dirty their hands? But oh; was there blood in that house. Sure, it was invisible, but every 'buissness partner' that walked through that door wore it like an old sweater. And every one walked out even worse. Every poisonous look passed around the table (that is, when anyone bothered to eat there) reeked of death. Every breath of air was tight and calculated, and hung in the air like a disease. Never mind if the child dared to disobey an order - there was blood there, too. So of course he kept his head down. What would he even say, when all of it came so...easily. Indeed, to Freed, blood was a second nature.

And even as he slipped away, the thought teased him without mercy: could one really leave behind that kind of second nature?

Bickslow knew it a little more literally. After all, he grew up on the streets, in a cold place with cold people. He learned how to run and fight early on because if he didn't...well, put plutly, he was very familiar with blood. Of course, it didn't bother him as much, perhaps, as it should've. But why should it? Everybody's made of blood, and if you lost it, well then, you were just too stupid or too weak. What else was there? Blood taught him another lesson early on: people died, and couldn't be trusted. He had watched enough people die tomknow that. So of course he made other friends - less mortal friends. It didn't seem odd to him, not really. After all, how could he know that most poeple don't talk to souls and dolls? To Bickslow, blood was just a part of the daily landscape.

Of course, as a homeless street-rat, he himself was just a rotting piece of the landscape, too. Detested yet inevitable; for years that was all people ever could see. Blood on the street.

Evergreen hated blood. It was dirty, and gross, and was always impossible to get out of clothes. But for someone who tried to keep away from it, she was always stuck back with it. It wasn't her fault, though. She didn't ask for the rocks to come flying when she walked down the streets. She didn't ask for the window to explode, seemingly on its own accord, on that night. And she certainly hadn't asked for all of the blood that coated the bathroom floor when her Mother had lost herself to the stress. But what could be said? After all, she turned people into stone, and couldn't undo it. She had heard it enough that it had become fact ages ago. Simply put, Evergreen was a demon. Sent straight from the depths of Hell, according to the neighbor boy. Cursed to curse.

So wasn't it inevitable? That blood would be drawn to a demon like a moth was to the light. As much as she tried to ecscape it, Ever knew blood, too.

Birds of a feather indeed.

**Next up: 'Chocolate'**


	2. Chocolate

**And here we are with prompt #2 - this one a tad more lighthearted. Admittedly, though, I don't think I'm as good at this kind of writing as Ch. 1. I guess practice makes perfect. Anyway, if you could take a minute to review, I may or may not stalk you for it out of semi-creepy love. So review cx**

**II. Chocolate**

Of all the days that were celebrated by the Raijinshuu, Valentines Day just about took the cake. And not because of love, or romance, or whatever else the Holiday was supposedly about, either. Nope; plain and simple, it was all about the chocolate.

It all started in one of the team's first years together, when they unwittingly ended up together on Valentines Day. Unfortunately, none of them were profusely popular; thus having very little candy (or plans) to speak of. So, rather than standing around like the bunch of awkward teenagers that they admittedly were, the three somehow ended up hanging out at Bixlow's apartment (mostly do to Evergreen, really). There, they decided to pool their and split it up evenly. More importantly then the chocolate, however, (despite what Bickslow says) what the surprisingly great night they had; watching cheap movies and throwing stale popcorn at each other. For the first time in awhile for all of them, there was true laughter that Valentine's Day. And chocolate - that was good too.

And that had started the long-standing tradition of hanging out late into the night as a team, every Valentine's Day thereafter. Every time they pooled their candy, before settling down for some games and movies. Of course, the exact details changed. Sometimes alcohol was involved; sometimes very heart-felt games of spin-the-bottle. Though surprisingly, the movies never really did change much from the old kids' films. And popcorn never did cease to end up, well, everywhere (which was why Evergreen banned having it at her house).

Of course, the day inspired other 'festivities', too. Namely, competing to see who can get the most candy. Though, admittedly, as Evergreen - ahem - matured, it soon became obvious that there was no beating the amounts of candy she got. Which somehow resulted in Bickslow trying - and failing - to dress as a woman one year. It was all Freed could do not to die laughing. Of course, that day has been "banned from ever seeing the light of day again" by Bickslow.

It was surprising, really. How well they kept to the tradition. An outsider might wonder what a bunch of young adults were doing, when Valentines Day was arguably the best time to pick up a date. But an outsider would never be able to understand just how important the day was to them. Because for the Raijinshuu, it wasn't a day of romance.

To them, it meant laughter. And that was something that could never lose its worth.

(Though the chocolate was still good, too.)

**Next Up: 'Lost'**


	3. Lost

**I am actually quite proud of this one. Of course, I also had quite a bit of fun writing little devil Mirajane ^^**

**III. Lost**

In all honesty, Freed Justine could deal with being alone. It wasn't a foreign concept, to sit in solitude, perhaps reading a book. In fact, he enjoyed the serenity of not having to be bothered by other people.

Which was why he was perfectly fine without having a team. Of course, there was also the fact that he knew no one, and forming a group with total strangers would be very _uncomfortable_, to say in the least.

But the fact was, he was happy in that decision.

Obviously, the Master had mentioned it to him. Obviously, he wanted to help the young mage to be comfortable in the new guild.

But while Freed could appreciate the thought, that was about as far as it went. It was obvious, to him, that he would probably never have a team. Which, really, suited him quite fine.

Which was why he was dubious, to say in the least, as he stared at the certain white-haired devil standing before him; hands on hips, scowl on face. He had noticed her watching him earlier, between fights with Erza, but only now, as he made his way home, did she actually approach him. Which kind of made him fear for his life. Not that he showed it - eyes blank as always - when he finally addressed her, "Hello, Mirajane...Did you, um, need something?"

Her scowl only deepened, before she jabbed an accusing finger in his direction. One hand on her hip, one pointed forward, and a ridiculous frown on her face; it probably would've been comical, had he not been terrified of her.

"You'd better believe I need something, retard! What's with wandering around like some kinda lost puppy day in and day out, huh? You're part of the Guild now - _go_ _do something!_" As Freed stared in stunned silence, Mira finally stopped to actually breath.

He dug his nails into his palms as he subconsciously hung his head. _He had done something wrong. _That was not a feeling he particularly liked to have. But he hadn't known - not really - what was expected of him, though he probably should've had a little bit of insight...Was the master mad? Maybe he really didn't belong in a place like this...

"Oi." Freed glanced up at the change of tone, which was coupled with a decidedly dramatic change of expression from Mira. She looked a little guilty, letting out a large sigh, "Look, you don't need to be bothered by it - really. In fact, tons of people in the Guild just sit around and drink all day. I just, uh...Well the bloody _point_ is, you should go do stuff because it's _fun._ You look so...lonely and out of place, sitting by yourself like that. You'll enjoy the missions, though - I'm sure! So...so go do something!" She finished, once again forceful in tone.

"I...the master said I can't go on missions alone, so..." Freed mumbled in reply, after another moment of silence. Really, there was no predicting this girl; one moment screaming and scowling, the next about as tender as she knew how. Which, in all honesty, was even creepier then her anger.

Of course, at the moment, she just rolled her eyes, like that was the stupidest thing she had ever heard, "Well, duh - go find some other losers and form a team. It ain't that hard."

Freed mumbled in reply, quiet as he could. "Oi, speak up!" was quickly shot back. He bit his lip, before taking a deep breath, "I don't want a team."

Mira, for her part, just stared at him, like perhaps he had just gone and grown himself a second head. He was tempted to make sure he hadn't, as the silence stretched on. Finally, still looking a tad confused, she admonished, "And why the f..." she glanced guiltily back at the Guild building, before trying again, "And why not? I mean, your companions are half the fun. Of course, sometimes you'll want to strangle them slowly, just to make them suffer for being such retards, possibly with the use of magic, and then throw their useless corpse in a river...But the fact is, having a team is great!"

Freed shrugged, trying not to dwell on the second part of that speech, "I'm fine being alone. I don't want to deal with other people...I don't even know anybody else. I just...don't want a team."

Apparently, being happy with solitude was a foreign concept to the girl. For a moment, he wondered if she just wouldn't comprehend it. But finally, she managed a reply, "Why would you _want _to be content with being alone. Company is so much more fun...don't you miss _not _having other people around when you're alone?"

Freed just shrugged, listlessly.

"I mean, when _I'm_ alone I just feel so lost and confused. Don't you?"

Another shrug. Another moment of silence.

Then, out of nowhere, she socked him in the shoulder (which, by the way, felt like being kicked by a horse. He would know.) and started grinning. _Yes_, he decided, this girl had to have a screw lose somewhere. As he nurtured his poor shoulder, she explained, back in full energy, "Well, I believe that you, being the total loser that you are, are lost. But the thing is...you've never be un-lost, so you don't even know it. And that's even more the reason to go form yourself a team!"

Taking a step back lest she decide to hit him again, he briefly pondered her patchwork explanation. Maybe it was true. Maybe he really had never known how it was to be found. Maybe the joke was on him. He held back a sigh, before lightly shaking his head, "I...don't know. Maybe you're right. But even so, I truly am happy as I am."

Well, as it turned out, he hadn't stepped back far enough, because in a second, she punched him _again, _but in the other shoulder this time.

"Of course I'm right! Even when I'm wrong I'm right; there is no 'maybe' about it! And your version of 'happy' has been denied, so screw you!" Super excited and scary one moment, the next, calm and almost tender. Definitely either crazy or bipolar.

"You're just gonna have to trust me on this one, Freed. One day, a team will come along. You may not know it at first, but they'll be your team. And when that happens, well then you'll get it. Because here at Fairy Tail, you don't have to be lost and alone. Just you see."

**Next up: Found**


	4. Found

**A/N: Random thought; why is Freed the only one of the three with a last name? Was the author just too lazy to name the other two or what? c: Anyway, this is kinda-sorta a continuation of last chapter, but focusing on Ever. Enjoy..?**

**IV. Found**

Evergreen was not a happy camper. And seeing as how she was being avoided like the plague, it must've been showing through.

Right now, the teenager was sitting at a table in the Guild, face in arms, waiting for some people she really didn't want to wait for. It had all started a few days ago, when she had discovered that her money was running dangerously low. So she did the obvious; that is, asked about doing Guild-related jobs. Of course, the logical thing to do would be to join a team for a mission. Which was all and well, except that that was were the aggravation began.

Because the Master had recommended her to his grandson's team. Or rather, had basically told them that she would be joining them. And that was the problem: _them._

First off was Laxus himself. Now, he was actually pretty hot, which Evergreen certainly did not have a problem with. But he also regarded her like he couldn't care less, and had hardly even looked up when they were introduced. She already could see him being an aggravating character to deal with. Plus, he looked like he regularly spent time with an electric socket.

Then came the most...flamboyant of the three. Or rather, the reason she was starting to think the idea was just to stuff all the freaks together. Also known as Bixlow. Now he was disgusting, immature, crude, and a plain old maniac. With creepy dolls, to boot. Sure, she had seen him about the Guild before, and had always planned to stay away from him. And now this.

Lastly was some other kid who had hardly said a word to her - Freed. He had just kind of stared upon first meeting, like he was trying to figure out all of her secrets or something. Around the Guild, all she ever saw him do was reading; thick, old-looking books that were probably more dangerous as a projectile than whatever magic they taught. She used to help _trashcan_ kids like this.

Of course, calling them a 'team' probably wasn't entirely accurate. While she hadn't spent anymore time with them than strictly necessary, she _had _gotten that the other two were in a similar situation as her. So basically, it was an attempt to baby-sit the kids no one else wanted.

Ever half-groaned, half-growled into her arms. Sure, it was only one mission, but she was fairly certain it would be the worst 'one mission' ever.

* * *

"I'd die before I eat anything made by you!" the teen teased, before following up by throwing a marshmallow. Bickslow attempted a hurt-looking pout in reply, but it was kind of ruined when he picked up the thing off of the ground. Then, dirt and all, popped it into his mouth. Ever shrieked in disgust.

It was the seventh mission she had gone on, and as the nature of the mission was surveillance, the team was currently camping out. And because it was a popular campsite, the wizards could do whatever they wanted. Which, of course, meant that Bickslow felt the need to bring along the ingredients for s'mores. In turn leading to a night of trying to find sticks for the marshmallows, then losing the marshmallows, then almost burning down their campsite.

It soon became apparent that Laxus was the only one who had ever actually gone camping before, though he didn't seem interested in pointing them in the right direction. All he contributed was laughter.

But in the end, they had conquered the campfire and the marshmallows (a tough adversary, indeed), and now sat in something of a circle, trying to mooch warmth out of the fire; each fighting their own battle of putting together a s'more (except Laxus, who was stretched out, lost in thought). In retrospect, Ever had to admit that it was pretty quite comical, how serious they all were about it. But eventually, they all settled into a comfortable silence.

Until Laxus lazily pushed himself into a sitting position, before addressing Evergreen, "So, it's been what? Six, seven missions? What d'you think?"

Ever lowered her treat from her mouth as she tried to string her thoughts together. In a way, she had been hoping that no one would notice how the one mission had become seven, but she still hadn't given any indication of wanting to be a part of the team. After all, she had to admit that she had fun. That she actually felt a sense of belonging. That she no longer thought Laxus was egotistical. And no longer did she want nothing to do with the maniac Bixlow (though he was still gross). Or think Freed was a shallow creep.

But on the other hand, she also couldn't escape the fear that if anything changed, everything would. Like this team, these people, were all just a delicate dream, hanging from a thread. It was irrational, of course - she knew that. Even so, looking between the three waiting faces, bathed in the warm light cast by the fire, she couldn't imagine going back to a time before. But it wasn't like she'd ever admit to it.

It was with this sudden thought, that she replied, "Yeah, well. It's not like you guys are any worse than anyone else. I _guess_ I wouldn't mind sticking around..."

Laxus shook his head, chuckling, at her reply, but said nothing more before plopping back onto his back. Freed smiled, in that way of his that one had to be looking for it to see, into his s'more. And Bickslow, well his face split with a devious grin that made Ever question her decision to stay.

But no; the alien feeling of belonging - even if it was with these guys - was something that couldn't be easily passed up. Even though she turned away, lest they see her own heart-felt grin.

**A/N: Evergreen is so tsudere - I mean, have you seen her with Elfman? cx Anyway, next chapters will be more comedy-oriented! (Maybe..) And in present-time. So yeah. Stick around.  
**


	5. Salt

**V. Salt**

"I'm going to put this as lightly as I can...actually, no I'm not. Ever, this isn't meant for human consumption."

Bickslow snorted in agreement, as he pushed what could only be considered 'cake' by very loose standards around on his plate. Next to him, Freed studying his fork as he tried to plan his next words. The two bemused wizards sat in front of Evergreen, where she stood with her arms crossed and an aura of frustration sliding off of her it waves.

"Ever...it's burnt. And raw. Simultaneously."

"Eh, I can ignore that. It sucks because it tastes bad - no amount of hot sauce could make this good."

Ever stared at her two critics, trying to push the latter part away for another time. Yes, on a later date she would definitely have a talk with Bixlow, but for now, she had a much bigger crisis. For a moment she was caught between wanting to kill the cake, her teammates, or herself. She went with the cake, stabbing it through the center with a knife.

"It's not fair! I followed the stupid recipe with its stupid happy-go-lucky-sparkles-and-sunshine! Twice! And now I'm out of flour!" As she went on, her voice steadily grew more angry, and even Bickslow stopped giggling for a moment. After all, it was common knowledge that at times like these, letting her scream herself out was best.

"All I wanted to do was bake something nice for Elfman! Is that too much to ask?" She all but screamed, the table at the mercy of her foot (and probably not enjoying it). Bickslow pulled the book toward him, and studied the offending recipe. "Wait, that was supposed to be chocolate?" This time, Ever took off a shoe and clipped his face with it.

Luckily for him (because, really, there's no way his face could survive her wrath), about then, the door bell rang.

For a moment, Ever froze, staring from her failed cake, to her kitchen, to her teammates, back to the cake. Surprisingly, it was Bickslow who tried to comfort her, "Hey, don't sweat it. I'm sure your present will suffice - you spent a whole day looking for it, anyway. He'll love it more then any cake." He grinned, "That you could make, anyway."

Needless to say, he earned himself another assault on his face for that one, while Freed silently dropped his head into his hands and wondered, again, _exactly_ went through his teammates head at times like this.

But once again, he was saved by the bell. "Someone get that - I'm covered in flour. Keep him in the foyet." Ever grumbled, defeated.

So of course, Bickslow gleefully ran to get the door, and _of course, _showed him into the kitchen, and offered him cake. Which he took a bite of. As Evergreen walked in.

It had to be said, that Elfman really did try, loyal as he was, not to gag. "No! You weren't supposed to eat it! You and your birthday are both stupid! And you, Bickslow, will die! And...gah!" Elfman stared around, trying to salvage the scene.

"I'm not here for cake - tons of people can do that. Me-..." He wisely cut himself off from saying something about being 'manly', and instead offered his hand. And, somehow, the two made it out of the house without someone ending up dead. A miracle, really.

Of course Bickslow was leaning on the counter, giggling like a possessed school girl. Had he brought along his babies, it would probably have sounded like a pack of hyenas. Freed glanced sideways at him, and sighed, "That was cruel. For someone who spends their time shipping those two, you sure spend a lot of time poltergeisting them."

"What? I didn't do anything..." Freed walked past him, and picked up the sugar from the counter, "The cake was salty both times. And you were acting too excited about all of this. And-"

"Yeah, okay. But come on, it was pretty hilarious. I figured she'd figure it out before hand - you know how meticulous she is - or at least after the first time. But twice! Golden!" He frowned, "And anyway, I'd never do anything to hurt their relationship...Did you see Elfman's face?" And thus, he was lost to another fit of laughter. Try as he might, Freed couldn't keep a straight face, either.

"Yeah, okay. Immature...but hilarious."


	6. Blink

**So...remember me? /shot/**  
**[I don't really remember/understand the guild structure...this takes place in the first building, please forgive me if I screw up the layout. Thank you.]**

It probably wouldn't be a stretch to say that most the city was currently being kept awake by a certain establishment. It was actually a near miracle that no one had come hammering on the door of the guild to shut them up. Then again, it'd be futile even if they had.

If asked exactly what it was that the members of Fairy Tail were celebrating on the particular night, they'd probably be hard pressed to give a straight answer. In fact, many very different answers might be offered, and none would really be wrong. It was just another night in Fairy Tale, and anyway, that was reason enough for celebration for some.

And at that particular moment, tables were flying. Amazing, considering that they had been bolted down not a week ago. Actually, there were multiple fights going on, but no one actually knew who they were fighting, and anyway, who's counting?

Ever glowered into her glass.

She loved parties, she did. But fairy Tale didn't do parties; it did disasters, and watching Elfman running around without a shirt could only occupy a girl for so long (admittedly, it had been pretty long).

Gossiping with Mira had also lost its fun, once all the regular subjects had been covered. Now the bar maid was busy entertaining Levy and co, and Ever slipped out of her seat. The ground shifted a bit beneath her tipsy feet, but she made her way over to the stairs, anyway.

It didn't take magic to know where her boys were. Bickslow liked to pretend to be some big-shot party animal, but he could only take it in small doses, truthfully. And then Freed...well, he didn't need much an excuse to weasel out of a party.

Ever reached the first balcony, where Alzack and Bisca were getting...pretty intimate. She made a face, resisted the urge to catcall them, moved on.

On the roof she found who she was looking for - that is, if what she was looking for was a very drunk Bickslow balancing on the railing that ran around the side of the roof, while Freed sat back and watched, mildly amused.

Ever was seized by an inexplicable urge to see how long he could stay upright whilst being tickled. She contained it, for the moment.

"Are you two still dodging parties? Freaks."

Bickslow jumped a little at her voice, which left his balance in the hands of gravity, grinning as he swayed, perilous. Freed studiously ignored him, "And I suppose you're here for something else?"

"Meh," she replied, nonchalant, "Elfman's going on about being manly again. I swear, for all these peoples' talk, they wouldn't know a real party if it started making out with 'em...And get down from there, moron, before we have to find a new fourth member!"

Bickslow put on what might loosely be described as a pout, tried for a back flip off the railing, landed awkwardly, and ended up in a very drunken heap at his team mates' feet.

Ever gave his ribs swift justice with her foot.

And for a moment, then, the three fell into a familiar silence (if you could call it that, past the noise beneath their feet). There was a slight breeze, and Ever shivered, but it wasn't nearly enough to break the trance. Bickslow, on the other hand...

"Remember when I broke your face up here?"

Freed made a sound like a wounded animal. Apparently, he remembered well.

"My nose, actually. If you had broken my face, I don't think we'd be here talking right now." He corrected, reproachfully. But he was smiling, in the dark.

In one fluid movement, Bickslow rolled over, and lay spread-eagle, staring up at the sky. He squinted through his mask. Looking for something, or maybe trying to remember. Considering he had most certainly had quite a bit more than one bottle tonight, it was quite the valiant effort.

"How long ago was that, do ya think? Seven years? No wait, that would be more like..." he scrunched his face in thought.

"Thirteen, technically." Freed murmured. Bickslow glowered.

"That's way too old! I still consider myself fourteen half the time!" Freed appraised him through the corner of his eyes.

"Funny, so do we."

Ever crossed the roof, and leaned back against the railing, tuning out the squabbling of her team. It did seem like a lifetime ago, though. Ages, and yet, like it had all happened yesterday. Years of missions, booze, willing and unwilling sleepovers; all compacted into a few small moments.

"...like we blinked, and suddenly, we're adults."

Oh, had she spoken aloud? She watched them through lowered eyelashes.

"What, then, will we find when we blink again?" That was Freed. He was resting his head on one hand, staring past the other two. Judging by his look, he was considering answers to his own question. Ever said nothing. When had they all grown up?

Certainly, not here. Not drinking, and chasing girls (boys, in her case), and sleeping in because none of them could be bothered by real work. Nothing had changed, in those small moments, so when had everything gone and twisted itself about?

Bickslow rolled over again, and covered his ears with his arms, moaning.

"I'm too drunk for this." They laughed, then, all three; because it was so typical, so normal. And probably they'd be old and winkled and still doing dumb stuff on the roof, because really, who had time to blink and grow old in such a crazy life?


	7. Sleep

**Ahh...hey guys. For those of you still following/commenting, I'm really sorry. So uh, take these chapters, and maybe I get myself together? Love you all.**

* * *

**Sleep**

Bickslow didn't sleep.

It wasn't for lack of interest, nor for conflict of schedule. In fact, undisturbed rest would be quite the treat for the teen. That didn't keep him off the streets at night, however. If one were to look, they may have found him hanging around a favorite restaurant, or perhaps just sitting under a streetlamp; becoming a part of the scenery.

But certainly, never in bed before two.

Back before he had joined the guild, and his magic had been a more casual activity, it hadn't been so bad. Perhaps, now that he was using it more, it attracted them more.

_Them._

It was their fault sleep alluded him. The spirits. The dead that drifted around, unsure of who they were but trying to get noticed anyway. It wasn't quite that he saw them; he just knew that they were there. And of course, he could hear them. They always seemed to be trying to communicate, but many had evidently forgotten how. Back then, it was only a few who pestered him, and seldom could he actually understand them. Now, it was as though they _knew_ that he was affected. And it was annoying as hell.

Sometimes, Bickslow tried to get rid of them. Trap them in dolls, or even try to kill them (it didn't work, of course. You can't kill something with no physical form). But somehow, they kept finding their way back to him. It was always worst at night, listening to them murmur and cry and cackle - as though the shadows themselves had awoken.

And he told no one, of course. He didn't interact much with the guild, but it was obvious some if them were wary of him as it was. How about adding to that the fact that he had the voices of dead people in his head? Bickslow didn't consider himself particularly smart (not like his prick of a teammate, Freed), but even to him, it seemed like a bad idea. And besides, what could they do? Chant and hold hands?

And that was what forced him out at night. He'd stay up, causing trouble and setting records for himself until his eyes simply wouldn't stay open and dizzy spells dropped him onto park benches. If anyone ever noticed his sleeping schedule, or his eyes growing more crazed and bloodshot by the day, they said nothing. If they had anything to say about a fourteen year old hanging out on the streets at night, they said nothing.

But then, even if they had, he'd probably just lie about it, anyway.


	8. Oil

**(water and) Oil**

None of them were anything alike.

Bickslow was a wild animal. His hair appeared to be styled day-to-day via a liberal dash of grease, a sharp edge, and perhaps electricity. He always had something to say, but never anything good. Between the cussing out of strangers, very pronounced innuendos, and insane dares, it was popular to simply block out his stream of chatter. He never made it easy. And somehow, despite his apparent adversity to anything resembling a bed, Bickslow had an almost constant stream of energy. And he used it to make people's lives hell. In addition, his build was that of an ox - a fact that he never failed to use that to his advantage.

Ever was surprising unoffensive to the others, but it didn't make her presence there any less of a mystery. For starters, she was decidedly less...male. The arguments about whether nail polish was really a necessity were countless (somehow, she always got her way). Her other hobbies seemed to mostly center around turning her nose up at everything, gossiping, and insisting upon the cuteness of her most recent "ship".

Lastly, there was Freed. Silent (unless he was pointing out Bickslow's idiocy), seemingly humorless, and guilty of opening a book on purpose. He acted like a little girl, according to Bickslow, and was quite frankly built like one, too. But his tongue was still sharp, and he pulled barbs out that shouldn't have worked as well as they did. Even worse, he tolerated everything. Without a reaction, the whole act of poltergeist and pranking was rendered useless. Never snapped, never joined in. He'd just look on blankly, perhaps slowly blinking, until Bickslow had to storm off.

So it was a surprise that they lasted more than a mission together. Despite the whining and hair pulling and very creative use of language, it was perhaps a unanimous understanding that they were, in fact, stuck.

Stuck like flypaper, or the annoying wad of chewing gum on the bottom of one's shoes, as it were.

But somewhere along the way, something started to change.

It wasn't that the trio became any less different from one another. It wasn't a change in being, but in understanding. It was getting to see that Bickslow _was_ obnoxious, but he could make them laugh when the world seemed too suffocating. It was getting used to gossiping with Ever, and even getting in on the matchmaking (_"if you admit that she belongs with Natsu, I might buy you a drink with your twenty dollars when you lose"_). And it was getting past the brittle exterior that was Freed, and finding someone there who'd stay up to any hour, offering an ear when enough was finally enough and no one else would listen.

And it was finding so many similarities beneath.


	9. Jail

**Jail**

"You should know that I blame you completely."

It was a nice day in Magnolia. Most of her people wold probably be out and about on a picnic or some other outdoor outing. The sun was warm; breeze was sweet. Anyone sane would take advantage of it. Yet somehow, sanity wasn't even the biggest obstacle keeping a certain three individuals from it (though it could certainly be called into question). Namely, it was jail.

Individual number one was gripping the bars and banging his head against them in exasperation. The guards had taken his sword, which on one hand left him feeling rather bare, but on the other, also kept him from skewering individual number two. Said individual was currently sprawled out on the concrete bench, apparently at total ease with the situation.

A third individual occupied the cell opposite, alone. She absently picked at the sparkly paint on her nails, "I agree. Bickslow, you're buying once we get out of here."

Bickslow grinned. Or rather, her words did nothing to deter the grin that currently occupied his features. He was only mildly afraid of Freed turning around and strangling him, because his dearly high-strung teammate had yet to bring out the really big words. At present, he was rubbing his forehead, either from the aforementioned head-banging, or perhaps for the situation its own. One never could tell.

"You are a capricious individual, I know. But of all the...Why?" Hmm, maybe he wasn't so safe. How many letters in capricious?

"It's not all my fault. If you're going to be my impulse control, you can't just leave me alone in public. I thought you knew that." Bickslow answered, innocently. If one could see beneath his mask, they'd see him batting his eyes like an adorably innocent child. Possibly one that had just taken from the cookie jar.

"How is this..? That doesn't even..." Freed turned back around. He was already in jail, and killing someone probably wouldn't do much for his case. Though perhaps, by then, he'd be eligible to plead insanity.

Bickslow added, "And I mean. You can't walk around looking like that and not expext to be challenged." There was a sound from Ever's cell that could've been out of amusement or distress. Bickslow had that affect on people.

For awhile they lapsed back into silence. But a comfortable one. As sad as it was, getting thrown into jail for public assault and indecency? Not the worst or weirdest situation they had gotten into together. Not by far. If it weren't for having to explain to the master why he had gotten that particular call from the cops, it wouldn't even be that big an inconvenience.

Not that that made Bickslow's actions any more excusable. Freed glowered from where he was, "You're an embarrassment to your team and to your species."

Bickslow positively beamed.


End file.
